


The Gilding Spinning Wheel

by Nedrika



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Rumpelstilzchen | Rumpelstiltskin (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 20:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nedrika/pseuds/Nedrika
Summary: Rumplestiltskin without the marriage, without the child, and without his name





	The Gilding Spinning Wheel

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
> I prefer no archive warnings apply but since this is fairytales do whatever you would like in terms of violence or character death--I prefer the originals with more darkness. Any fairytale retold with less to no romance or "romance."
> 
> I know that Rumplestiltskin is only a romance in the loosest of senses but it's the one that stuck out to me the most.

A long time ago there was a miller who was poor but happy, and he had a beautiful daughter with bright laughing eyes and hair as fair as any in the land. One night the miller was out drinking with his friends from the town and in the ferocity of his pride he could not help himself but shout to the world;

“My daughter is the best of any here, and in sunlight, she spins her yellow straw to shining gold!”

One of the guards patrolling the street overheard the boast and took her hair for cut straw, reporting back to the King at once that he had found some nymph in the city who could give him all the wealth that he desired. The next morning the miller and his bright-blonde daughter were taken before the court where their denials were taken as modesty at best and disloyal greed at worst, and so the miller’s daughter found herself locked in a disused room in the palace. It was piled high wall to wall with straw and with a long window that lit up the room and brought attention to the small spinning wheel and stool in the centre of the flagstones. 

She had no idea how to spin straw into gold, as surely such a thing would be an impossible feat, and if she could not produce a sheaf of gold by the next day her life was forfeit as a result of her father’s ill-considered claim. She could not bring herself to hate her father for his foolishness but as the hours went on and the sun set she resigned herself to death with the first light of dawn, and she fell crying to the floor.

In that moment the door creaked open, despite the guards and bolts and locks, and a small figure entered. She recognised the long nose and thin pointed ears of some brownie or pixie, and she feared what magic she would be subject to now.

“Good evening, dear,” the creature said as it pulled its hat to its chest and lowered its head in a courtly bow. “Tears do not suit that little face, what distresses you so?”

“I have until this next morning to spin all the straw in this room so that it turns to gold, but it is impossible and so I am to be executed.”

“I can spin that straw into gold for you, for the right price. What do you offer?”

The girl was stunned, but with no alternatives she found herself believing the little man. Being poor there was little that she could offer him, but she had a necklace of fine glass beads that she could offer, and he took without bargain.

He set himself down on the stool and began to spin until the room was full of the sound of the treadle and gold spooled on the bobbin again and again until when the King arrived with the dawn he opened the door to a room full of blinding gold, down to the last strand, with no sign of the stranger. He was entranced by the sight and immediately called for a larger room and more straw, and again the girl was locked in with her daylight ultimatum. 

Again she began to cry for she still could not do anything for herself, but then when night came so did the imp, and he again bowed low to her. 

“Do you have your payment for my service again?”

“I do,” said the girl, and pulled a delicate pewter ring from her finger, which the imp took with a smile before settling again in front of the wheel.

She woke in the morning to a room of glistening gold and the King smiling down at her with a greedy glint in his eye.

“I shall give you the whole of my banquet hall full of straw to spin tonight,” he said, and her heart trembled, “and if you manage this we will marry in the morn and you shall spin for me forever more.” The thought terrified her almost as much as that of losing her head, but she held her tongue. 

The sun set and then her little saviour appeared and again asked for payment.

“I have nothing I can give,” she said. “I am a miller’s daughter, and I have no great wealth.”

“I will have your first born child in return for my labour,” he said, and a kernel of an idea took root in her mind.

“I will give it,” she said, “but at such a great price you must spin for me whenever I have need of you and call for my imp, for if I am executed for my mundanity you will never have your prize.”

“That is a fair deal,” he said, and she lay down to sleep to the whirring of the wheel.

When she awoke the great hall was beautiful, the long tall windows letting floods of light dance over the ocean of gold bobbins and sheaves and loose piles that stood from wall to wall, their reflections bouncing high off the walls. The King was walking through the piles, hands trailing over the metal and running threads of it through his fingers. When he turned toward her the glint in his eye had become open hunger, but she straightened up and looked him straight in the eye.

“We will go straight to the Cathedral so that we can be married, and then you will be the greatest of my treasures.” The words were said with an air of affability, but there was no disguising his motives.

“I am afraid that I cannot wed you, my King, for the arcane magic which allows me to spin this gold is fickle and shall leave me the second I lose my maidenhead, and so I cannot marry any man nor bear an heir.”

The King grew furious and stormed around the hall in a great rage before he settled himself back down. 

“Then you shall stay in that room and spin for me the rest of your days.”

“My lord, the magic is natural and thrives in the wild; the longer I remain here the less I shall be able to spin for you. I have already exhausted my reserves for you these past three nights, and if left in here much longer I shall not be able to spin much more than one reel. I must be free and outside to wander if I am to spin, and I pledge that no other shall profit from my gift than you, my liege.” Great confusion and greed battled with the possessiveness of the King at this speech, but at last the fear of losing the gold won over and he agreed to her request. She was returned to her father with great pomp and finery as a ward of the Royal Family, and their reunion was one of many tears and apologies but terrible happiness. 

Years passed, and at intervals, the King would call for his Golden Witch, and the Golden Witch would call for her imp, and the imp would spin gold in the richly attired rooms of the palace that she was given. Each time she would have a new excuse for why there was no child until she was old and gray and the little pixie flew into a terrible fury at the realisation that the window was closed and the child would never be his, although since no contract was broken all that could be done other than to leave and never return. By this time the old King had passed away and the new King took kindly to the news that her magic had left her, which was indeed true, and she was given the freedom of the kingdom and a sheaf of gold of her own, and she lived quietly and happily for the rest of her days.


End file.
